


Thrushpelt's Grief - Warrior Cats short.

by Mellowix



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26164576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellowix/pseuds/Mellowix
Summary: Thrushpelt gave up so much for Bluestar, yet she still faked the deaths of his adopted kittens, leaving him in grief. Would he ever discover the truth or does he die still wrapped up in that lie?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Thrushpelt's Grief - Warrior Cats short.

How long was the road to recovery? Thrushpelt didn't know. The devastating death on his adopted kits was still fresh in his mind: Mosskit, Stonekit and Mistykit. While it was technically five moons since a fox had snatched them, it didn't feel a signal day had passed to soften the blow. Time didn't help, no matter how long he waited. 

His old friend, Bluefur had already lost her mother and sister, she hadn't deserved her kits' deaths as well. Though she'd shown a strength Thrushpelt hadn't, throwing herself back into her duties, to fulfil the void left in her heart. She'd certainly earned her deputy postion and was a worthy successor to Tawnyspots, Thrushpelt's brother. 

The distant rippling of water was Thrushpelt's anchor back into reality. Shaking his head, he snapped himself out of his confused daze. You're meant to be patrolling sunningrocks, you mousebrain! He reminded himself in frustration. Quickening his pace, he gratefully nodded to his patrol, who'd been patiently waiting for him.

Perhaps it was best to follow the pawsteps of his late brother, Tawnyspots and retire to the elder's den. He didn't want to drag the rest of his clanmates down while he grieved. Without a word, Rosetail shrugged and Tigerclaw let out an annoyed snort. The three cats headed down the rocky track, swirling down to the Riverclan border. The sunhigh glittered off the rushing current, the light bouncing off like flashing stars. A rare flash of silver could be glimpsed under the waves, as fish dared to venture near the surface. While it was the sight of enemy territory, it was undeniable beautiful. It could be a temporary distraction from his haunting memories, lurking at the back of his mind, lunching out whenever he didn't want it.

Thrushpelt's bones clicked unnaturally as he struggled to keep up climbing down Sunningrocks. As opened his mouth to scent the air, the sandy grey tom was alarmed at the Riverclan scent lingering on their land. Even a distracted cat like himself couldn't be entirely deaf to the recent reports of border skirmishes. He assumed they were pettiness between undisciplined youngsters, but the density of the smell was suffocating. It meant a large group of Riverclan was approaching, both young and senior warriors.

Rosetail's sudden warning call made Thrushpelt almost leap out of his pelt. On the Riverclan bank, reeds rustled as cats steadily filed out. Three - Four - Five - Thrushpelt had to suppress a gasp as a whole battle patrol marched the border, wanting to make their presence known. They strolled with their tails held high, scared of nothing. Just as he was having thoughts of moving to the elder's den, this had to happen. Was he in good shape to protect his clanmates?

"This better not be because of Sunningrocks.", Rosetail grumbled, "I'm sick of that nonsense."

Whirling round to his clanmate, Tigerclaw cuffed her over the ear, "You should be honoured to fight for your clan, mouseheart.".

Thrushpelt almost offered to run for reinforcements, before he halted in his tracks. There were two apprentices amongst the patrol. Two blueish grey apprentices. The shades of their pelts perfectly reminded him of Bluefur. Shocked he managed to get the words out, he asked Rosetail, "W-who are those new apprentices?."

His half-sister didn't give the question much thought, quickly answering, "Stonepaw and Mistypaw - They're rogue kits Oakheart and Graypool took in. Their apprenticeships were announced the last gathering.".

At the mention of their rogue status, Tigerclaw gritted his teeth. Ignoring it, Thrushpelt had more pressing issues. Suspiciously, this was the first time he'd heard of Graypool and Oakheart's partnership. Was she still mates with Rippleclaw or not? The grey warrior had always had a complicated relationship with outsiders - He was vocal against the forbidden mate, Farrowtail, but had no issue with being mates with her Half-Clan daughter. Would Rippleclaw be willing to raise two rogue kits? Paranoid thoughts threatened to crawl out of Thrushpelt's throat in a distressed whale.

Though faint whispers of reason kept that from happening. There were dozens of plain grey cats within the Clans. Even the name 'Stone' was one of the most common out there: Thunderclan had its own Stonepelt after all. It was probably the wishful thinking of a grieving father. If they seriously were his lost kits, where was Mosskit?

At the same time, he couldn't dismiss it entirely. Luckily for him, Oakheart was also within this patrol. Perhaps he could ask the brown tom where he discovered Stonepaw and Mistypaw. That way, he could his mind to rest. Despite hating to admit it, he couldn't ask Bluefur when he returned to camp - She may have already lied to him.

Since Thrushpelt didn't volunteer, Rosetail rushed to find back up, "Keep them talking - I'll find another patrol.". Then, she dived into the shade of the trees faster than a lightning bolt. Delay the Riverclan patrol's attack by talking? Thrushpelt didn't want to think lowly of a clanmate, but Tigerclaw was ill-fitted to this challenge. He'd rather shred first, and ask questions later.

Without a choice, Thrushpelt nervously slid down the jagged rocks to meet the enemy patrol. He counted nine foes in all. They had leapt the last stepping stone. Now they truly were trespassing on Thunderclan's sandy soil.

Before Thrushpelt could stop him, Tigerclaw yowled out to them, "What are you doing on Thunderclan land, fish eaters?".

Instantly, the Riverclan warriors' fur spiked and slid out their claws. When they realised the pathetic number of Thunderclan warriors, they let their coats lay flat. One of the Riverclan cats, Rippleclaw remarked, "Is this Thunderclan's pitiful defence?"

Tigerclaw snorted with amusement, "Even you outnumber us, your pathetic rogues will never be threats towards Thunderclan."

Thrushpelt's earlier doubts of Rippleclaw were shattered, the silver warrior snarled in disgust, "I've taught them to be better than your pathetic insults, Tigerclaw. Face them in battle and then you'll see. It doesn't matter if they don't carry Riverclan blood, as long as they have its spirit."

Stonepaw puffed out his chest in the offence, taking a daring step towards the much larger tom. He declared proudly, "We're Riverclan and nothing can change that!"

Even Tigerclaw had to acknowledge the apprentice's bravery, grunting. His sister, Mistypaw shoved him back for his own safety, scolding him, "Don't start a fight against orders.". Even if it turned out Thrushpelt wasn't their father, he was still proud of them. They were already shaping up to be fine apprentices for Riverclan.

Timberfur stepped out from the ranks of the patrol, puffing up his chest, "We're not here to take Sunningrocks if that's what you think. We're here to teach you a lesson. Thunderclan will no longer get away with injuring our warriors."

"You dare accuse us!", Tigerclaw snarled, barely stopping himself from attacking the deputy. It was subtle, but there was a crack of regret in the brown tabby's voice. Did he know something about this? Admittedly Tigerclaw had been reporting of border clashes recently. Were they all skirmishes with Riverclan?

"Crookedstar could've have brought this up at a Gathering, Timberfur. Sunstar will control his warriors if you tell him what's going on.", Thrushpelt reminded them coolly. He got a dirty glare from Tigerclaw, probably seeing it as a cowardly move.

"Sunstar would be too lenient on his warriors. We need to do this ourselves to properly avenge our wounded.", the Riverclan deputy threatened calmly. Thrushpelt should've been more intimidated, he knew that. However, he couldn't force himself to care, with Stonepaw and Mistypaw in the crowd.

It felt like a dream. Any heartbeat he could wake up, not knowing if it was a nightmare or fantasy. Were they his adopted kits or was he reaching? They'd literally come back from the dead and they didn't know it. If they were his kits, he barely recognised them. Instead of their crawling on their stumpy legs and puffing out their kits fluff; they had sleek pelts and lean builds, like any natural-born Riverclan cat. While Mistypaw reached above her littermate's ears, Stonepaw was bulkier of the two. They already appeared like strong opponents at seven moons.

Then Thrushpelt noticed Oakheart hovered nearby, curling his tail protectively around them. How much did he know about their past? For the time being, Thrushpelt's only goal was to get answers from Oakheart. It was the wrong time to confront the apprentices directly - It was unlikely they even remember Thrushpelt. It would be especially awkward if he was actually wrong. If Thrushpelt was going to reunite with them, one of their Riverclan clanmates needed to explain the truth beforehand. Hopefully, that would be Oakheart.

In his daze, Thrushpelt hardly noticed the angry yowls erupting around him: Rosetail burst from the undergrowth, sending a storm of leaves into the air. On her heels, were Runningpaw and Mousepaw, closely followed by their mentors. By their red on their whispers, their hunting must have been interrupted. Feeding the Clan was vital, but when it came to an invasion, they had to drop everything.

Taking that as his cue, Tigerclaw eagerly barrelled Timberfur over with his whole weight. Both toms rolled off the hillside, grit falling with them. Both sides quickly found an opponent, the peaceful Sunningrocks arose with screeching and the scent of blood. Hesitating on the sidelines, Thrushpelt didn't know who to target. Briefly, he checked if Stonepaw and Mistypaw were alright.

They were in the least chaotic part of the battle, both tag-teaming the fellow apprentice, Mousepaw. A silver tom, Rippleclaw constantly kept pacing around them, keeping an eye on them, "Don't go too far, you two!". He must be their bodyguard since they only been out of the Nursery for a moon.

Assured they were safe, Thrushpelt dived into the thick of battle, weaving among cats. Somehow, he needed to isolate Oakheart from the rest of the group. The sunningrocks was an uneven terrain, large cracks within the stones creating small gullies. Rocks spikes jutted out like fangs, coming from all directions. It wasn't just a fight against the cats, but the hazardous environment itself.

Before he could find Oakheart, Thrushpelt winced at needle teeth dug into his tail tip. His paws collapsed when his foe suddenly yanked his tail. Twisting around, it was a vicious she-cat he'd seen at Gatherings - Leopardfur, he thought. Kicking out with his forelegs, he slashed against her muzzle. Enraged, the golden she-cat tried landing on top of him while he was still down. Narrowly rolling to the side, Thrushpelt reared up. There was no time to waste!

Grabbing her by the neck, Thrushpelt roughly threw Leopardfoot serval fox-lengths. Before she could recover, he took the chance to make the distance between them. Oakheart was locked in combat with Rosetail, neither cat giving in. The moment of truth! His heart in his throat, Thrushpelt pulled Oakheart by his scruff, dragging him off Rosetail.

Struggling to get a proper grip on the brown tom, he yelled out to his sister, "Don't take this personally - But I wanna test my skill on Oakheart!".

Always the jokester, Rosetail took it light-heartedly, "Alright, hotshot. We'll trade opponents.".

It made Thrushpelt's throat rumble with an amused purr. Then, his sister intercepted Leopardfur chasing after them. Alone with Oakheart, Thrushpelt could finally demand the truth of the kits. There a crevice within the cliff wall offered a hiding place. So using all his strength, he shoved the Riverclan tom inside.

The rage of battle became muffled as the rock enclosed around them like a grey jaw.

Refusing to go quietly, Oakheart slashed at Thrushpelt's ears as he awkwardly stumbled into the cramped space. Thrushpelt desperately called out, "Oakheart, wait! I need to talk to you."

Pressed against the back of the narrow gap, the brown tom seemed baffled, "Talk? This is a battle! Spit it out quickly, before I have to chase you off."

Thrushpelt got the message loud and clear, "I know this might be reaching - But I need you to think carefully about where you found Mistypaw and Stonepaw. They look eerily similar to my missing kits."

At this response, Oakheart became deadly silent, like a frost had frozen him in time. A rapid amount of emotions travelled across his face; jealousy, confusion, empathy. All expressions Thrushpelt thought he'd never see from an enemy warrior. Oakheart's tone turned much quieter, "Your Bluefur's mate, ain't you? I can't believe she hasn't told you."

It never felt right when he and Bluefur were labelled mates, they were truly friends after all. Though for the sake of her safety, he kept up their persona. "What are you talking about?", he muttered.

Unable to keep eye contact, Oakheart took a deep breath. A wave of doubt spread from Thrushpelt from tail to ear. Did he actually want to hear Oakheart's confession? There was no time for second thoughts, with the Riverclan cat already admitting, "You raised Mosskit when I couldn't, so I owe you the truth. I'm the father of Bluefur's litter. She handed Stonekit and Mistykit to me several moons ago, but unfortunately, Mosskit froze during the journey."

Panic came crashing over Thrushpelt like a landslide. His airways closed up, making him gag violently, his throat raw. It didn't matter Oakheart was Bluefur's mate - Thrushpelt already accepted she never loved him long ago. All he had racing through his head, was Mosskit's death. He was reliving the day when the fox raided the Nursery, snatching his adopted litter. Even if it was a single kit this time, it didn't make a difference. It should've been him lying motionless in the snow, not her!

"I don't understand. Mosskit-", Thrushpelt frantically gasped, "What was Bluefur doing? Didn't she trust me?".

Oakheart kept in a tight ball, bowing his head, "I don't know what Bluefur was thinking. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, Thrushpelt."

The crevice was suffocatingly small, the sharp stones scraping his pelt, threatening to trap him forever. "Let me out!", Thushpelt cried desperately, accidentally kicking Oakheart as he flailed outwards. Fresh air flooded his lungs. In the distance, a wounded Rosetail limped away from the battle, Mousepaw leaning against her shoulder. He should've of been defending them, Thrushpelt thought numbly.

Gradually Oakheart stepped out from the crevice, uncomfortably shaking the grit from his pelt.

Thrushpelt hastily shook him with his paw, trying to get answers, "My kits are actually alive. Do Stonepaw and Mistypaw know? Please tell me-".

Then, a squeaky voice interrupted his plea, "Oakheart, are you hurt?", Mistypaw called out. Perched high above them on a ledge, the two littermates nervously peered down. Next to them, was Rippleclaw, swaying his tail with suspicion.

Unable to stop his body, Thrushpelt took a step towards his kits, his voice cracking with emotion, "Do you know who I am?".

Painfully, they recoiled back in fear, making Rippleclaw dart in front of them. His protectiveness made sense, he was Greypool's mate - Even if he didn't know, he and Thrushpelt once held the same position. "Stay back, Mistypaw.", Rippleclaw ordered before snarling at the grown cats, "An enemy is threatening Greypool's kits, Oakheart! You promised her you'd protect them, so live up to that. Attack this squirrel eater!"

Unmoving, Thrushpelt and Oakheart could only stare at one another intensely. Could they ever be rival warriors again, after discovering their shared history? Hissing in frustration, Rippleclaw pointed out the apprentices with his tail, "Just get them out of here, Oakheart. I'll deal with this myself!"

With a sigh, Oakheart stepped away from Thrushpelt. The Thunderclan warrior was helpless as Rippleclaw dropped from the ledge, driving him into the floor. Meanwhile, Oakheart silently clambered up Sunningrocks, signalling for Stonepaw and Mistypaw to follow. Thrushpelt's heart shattered to pieces when he heard Stonepaw's next words, "Who was that?".

Before Thrushpelt calls out, they'd vanished from sight. Would he ever get reunited with them? Or had he scared them away forever with his rash words?

Rippleclaw's breath shook Thrushpelt's whispers, "I'd heard your ramblings, Thrushpelt. I know the pain of losing kits, believe me, I've been through it. But your delusions can't justify stealing another family's litter!"

Alarmed at the accusation, Thrushpelt tried flinching away, only for Rippleclaw to lay a threatening paw on his chest. Force to be compliant, he reasoned with him instead, "I'd never force them to join me, Rippleclaw! But those are my missing kits, I swear."

Muscles twitching, Rippleclaw struggled to hold his anger, "Get a grip! Oakheart found them by the twolegplace as rogues - They were nowhere near Thunderclan!"

Surely, Rippleclaw couldn't dismiss his claims in an instant? Or was he purposefully blind sighting himself to the truth? Who was the real cat stealing litters? Feeling his own desperation boil in his veins, Thrushpelt gripped Rippleclaw's legs with his claws, "You don't understand - I know things you don't.", he snapped back.

"I'm not letting you near them. Graypool has been through enough without a delusional cat chasing her kits!", Rippleclaw declared with determination, gripping Thrushpelt's head and slamming it back to the floor.

His parental instincts took over Thrushpelt's vision was being covered with a fierce red. Gathering his strength, he lunged his head forward like a snake, bitting Rippleclaw's shoulder. His leg buckling, Rippleclaw fell right into Thrushpelt's grasp. Flipping him into his back, Thrushpelt shouted into Rippleclaw, forcing him to listen, "The kits might choose a different mother if they knew the truth! It's their right to know!".

Smacking his jaw, Rippleclaw fought for dominance, making the two toms roll over one another. Refusing to let that happen, Thrushpelt used every claw to limit his opponent's flailing. Finally, Rippleclaw replied through the madness, "Give up already! There's no truth to this, it's only your own fantasy."

As they continued to fight, they bangled alarmingly close to the river's edge, waves spitting foam on their pelts. It risked Rippeclaw getting the advantage and forever barricading Thrushpelt from his kits. It couldn't end like this! Out of options, the Thunderclan tom had to use dirty tactics, aiming for Rippleclaw's eyes. "I need to keep my family together!", Thrushpelt's blurted.

As the scratches got dangerously close to his eyes, Rippleclaw screamed out with pure desperation and rage, "So do I!".

In that heartbeat, the solid earth disappeared and Thrushpelt was tumbling through thin air. Before he could yowl out, he crashed through the river's surface, surrounded by endless murk. It engulfed him every sense. Bubbles swirled around him, making it impossible to know which way was up. There was a sharp pain in his chest, as he struggled not to let the water burrow into his lungs.

While the river did it's best to choke him, Thrushpelt remained entangled with Rippleclaw. His opponent has tainted a foggy grey in the dim light shining through the waves. The heavy water slowed his movements, making Thrushpelt's slashes merely skimmed through the silver bristles. Briefly dodging the attacks, a dark aura came over Rippleclaw's face.

Then, he clasped his jaw deep into Thrushpelt's throat.

At first, Thrushpelt didn't feel anything, his mind went blank. But then, red began mixing with the blue current. It was Blood. His blood.

His body's efforts to gasp for air told him his neck had been slit, exposing it to the outside world. He was dying, yet despite that, the river made him feel eerily calming. He simply was left adrift, floating aimlessly.

Rippleclaw's yellow eyes glowed like two dim suns, neither proud nor regretful of what he'd done. He steadily swerved away, swimming into the blue void, letting Thrushpelt be taken by the swift current. The dying cat didn't know whether he should blame him. A father's wrath was an all-consuming beast, it had blazed trough Thrushpelt in the battle above heartbeats ago. If their battle had gone differently, would he have the bloodied claws instead? Could he claim to be better?

Was he ready to let go? He's been fortunate, living to the age of a senior warrior. All of his siblings and parents had been by his side for as long as he needed, peacefully retiring to the elder's den. Some warrior could die unsatisfied if they couldn't become deputy, but Thrushpelt didn't need that. He preferred the quieter life of a warrior, supporting his clanmates, rather than commanding them.

Yet in other ways, it felt like his life had only begun. He'd only been a father for a single moon, before the kits were taken away from him. There was a spark, a vision of a bright possible future with his surviving litter - But here he was, sensing Starclan's presence to guide him to the skies.

Perhaps he was being selfish. As long as they had parents who loved them, even if it wasn't him, that's what mattered. From his short impression on them, the two littermates have strong father figures in their lives. Despite being a rival to Bluefur's love, Oakheart didn't hesitate to show compassion to Thrushpelt, telling him the truth. Then when it came Rippleclaw - At least they could rely on his fighting skills.

With proper guidance, the traits Thrushpelt witnessed in the Nursery could allow them to be fine warriors. Mistykit's determination to stick to the games' roles, could allow her to be the Camp's peacekeeper. Stonekit's quick-wit in play fights could allow him to command over massive battles.

Mosskit would never that chance, she couldn't bring cats' joy with her excitable energy. Maybe Thrushpelt could repay for his failure to protect her in Starclan. He'd be the father she should've of had before she slipped away.

As for Bluefur, Thrushpelt didn't know how to feel. She always felt she needed to take on her burdens alone. It had always made her focused, but also so reserved. Not him or her closest family knew about her deepest secrets. Did that her unknown motive justifies taking her kits through a blizzard and drowning her Clan in grief?

Thrushpelt could never hate Bluefur, but now, he wasn't sure he loved her either. He was only disappointed. Though he wanted to assume the best of her.

He'd wait for Bluefur in Starclan and then he could ask the simple question - Why?


End file.
